


in case I stand one little chance

by bgonemydear



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 05:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5616220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgonemydear/pseuds/bgonemydear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven has all but decided to not go to the Blake sibling New Year's Eve party, until she finds out that a newly-single Clarke will be there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in case I stand one little chance

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?".

Raven breaks up with Wick for the final time the day after Christmas. If she’s being honest with herself, it’s been a long time coming and she's happy to just be done with it.

Which is what she tells Bellamy the next day when she visits him at his second job at the bar. He's on break from the high school and usually picks up more hours bartending during his off time, even though he's finally at a point in his life where he probably doesn't need the extra cash. Habits die hard, though, Raven supposes.

She waves away his condolences to her break up, and asks him for another beer instead. 

“It's fine,” she says. “I'm just telling you so you know why I probably won't be coming to your New Year's Eve party.”

He gives her a contemplative look as he finishes washing some glasses in the sink behind the bar. 

“Clarke will be there,” he says, with such nonchalance that Raven knows it’s a deliberate move on his part.

“Yeah,” she scoffs. “Probably with her scary, emotionless girlfriend. You’re not exactly racking up reasons for me to still come to your party.”

Bellamy’s jaw clenches for a second, like he’s trying to make a decision. “They broke up a couple of weeks ago, actually.”

Raven puts her glass down on the bar top with a clink, much harder than she intended. “What?! How did I not hear about this?”

She and Clarke had a rocky start their freshmen year of college, but in the seven years since, they had grown to be close friends. Sure, they’ve drifted apart a little since Clarke had gotten semi-serious about Lexa, but Raven still thought she would’ve been at least top three to hear about a breakup.

“She likes me best,” Bellamy says, shrugging. And avoiding eye contact. Raven narrows her eyes, giving him her best glare, and he breaks within seconds. “Okay, I _may_ have mentioned that you were going through your own relationship drama at the time. She probably just thought it would be better to not bring it up to you.”

Raven makes a noise of indignation and Bellamy scrunches his face in the closest thing to a flinch he ever shows with her. Raven grabs at some of the sliced lemons behind the bar to throw at him, but Bellamy’s already moving away from her to attend to some new customers at the other end of the bar. Still, one of the lemons hits him on the back and she feels pretty satisfied with her revenge for now.

She tries to recall the last time she’s talked with Clarke outside of texting random memes to each other throughout the week. Their bi-weekly lunches had started to fall to the side first when Clarke started getting more involved with Lexa, and then as things with Wick started back up again, and subsequently fell apart _again_ , Raven hadn’t really kept up on her side of the scheduling either. Still, a break up should’ve been something to bring them back together again, at least. 

Although, Raven’s plan of action when she finally ended her relationship was to come get drunk with Bellamy, and nowhere in her plan for the night did it include telling Clarke. She just hadn’t wanted to deal with the happy-in-a-relationship pity she would’ve gotten from her. She did _not_ need pity. She was the one to end it, and she is _awesome_.

Raven tips the half drunk glass of beer towards her, watching as the liquid evens out to a slant, before bringing it to her lips to down another third.

“Anyway,” Bellamy says, picking up the conversation as he moves back to her end of the bar, “you really should come to the party. Just so you and Clarke can rekindle whatever it is that you had between the two of you.”

Raven’s heart jumps into her throat, and she flits her eyes up to see whether Bellamy is implying anything beyond friendship. He doesn’t seem to be, but she can’t help letting her mind wander that way a bit while she runs her finger along the rim of her glass.

“I may make an appearance,” she says, shrugging.

“Well, make sure you bring the whiskey you owe me for correctly calling when you were going to end things with the Wickster,” he tells her, smirking. 

This time when she throws the lemon slice, it hits him squarely in the middle of his forehead. 

“What?! You said you were fine.”

**

The minute Raven walks into Lincoln’s loft, she knows it was probably a mistake to come.

She had no idea the Blakes knew this many people, but the moment she clears the entrance hallway, it’s almost a fight to get to someone she knows. She finally manages to spot Lincoln’s bald head a few feet away from her, so she sneaks her way over to him through the crowd of buzzed twenty-somethings. 

“Hey! Raven!” he says, enthusiastically, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. It looks like he, much like everyone else, have a head start on the drinking compared to her, since the only time he’s ever really affectionate with people other than Octavia is when he’s drinking. “Here, let me take your stuff and put it one of the rooms.”

“Thanks, Linc,” she says loudly, leaning towards him to be heard. “You know where I can get a drink?”

He points towards the far wall where there seems to be a large bar set up for the night, as he moves away in the opposite direction to put her stuff away. It takes her another few moments, with some stops by the occasional friend to make it over to the bar. When she finally makes it to the clearing just in front of it, she almost turns and heads straight back into the crowd, because directly in front of her taking shots are Monty, Miller, and Clarke.

“Raven!!” Monty yells excitedly, throwing his arms up as he catches sight of her. 

Raven raises her eyebrows. Apparently she’s _really_ far behind everyone else.

“Yessss,” Monty hisses, grabbing her hand and pulling her in closer to their small group. “The gang’s all here! You have to do some shots with us.”

Raven laughs, shaking her head at him, and then says, “Alright, then pour me something.”

Miller pours the next round, and hands them all out, including to Clarke who is still standing there with them, and who Raven has avoided looking at for the last minute or two. 

Once they finally take the shots, Raven summons the courage to look at her and quietly sucks in a breath at her ivory dress, her messy curls, and her tentative smile that widens to a grin once Raven smirks back.

“Hi,” she tells Raven, already moving to get closer to her and wrap her in a hug. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Raven hums as she returns the hug, taking in the light floral scent that Clarke always seems to have, something Raven didn’t even realized she’d been missing in her life. She shakes herself a bit and pulls back.

“Life,” she shrugs, making sure to pull her hands away from where they had drifted to Clarke’s hips. “I’m going to get an actual drink,” she tells her, before making sure to put some distance in between them.

Raven knows that going down that rabbit hole will only lead to more heartache. She and Clarke have been friends for seven years, of which at least four have been where they are both unattached; if something was going to happen between the two of them, she figures it would’ve already happened. So she puts it out of her mind for tonight and is half relieved when she turns from getting her drink to find that Clarke has slipped back into the mass of bodies instead of waiting for her.

_Probably for the best_ , Raven thinks.

**

By the time it’s a half hour till midnight, Raven is glad that she came tonight so she could see all of her friends in one place, since having adult lives means that a majority of them don’t get to see each other as often as they like. However, the overwhelming amount of people in Lincoln’s apartment has her searching the guest bedroom for her jacket so she can at least escape out to the balcony for a respite.

She’s always loved Lincoln’s balcony. The loft is an inheritance from his aunt, a northside residence with a great view close to the lake front. Raven’s found herself out on this balcony more times than she can count during their group get togethers. There’s something about the stillness of the air up here, the way the noise from the Chicago streets below is somehow muted, that pulls to Raven each time she comes over to Lincoln’s.

She must be a little more drunk that she realizes, though, because it’s not until she’s already pushed the balcony door open and made her way out into the chilled winter air that she remembers that she and Clarke have always ended up in the same gravitational orbit. The balcony is one of Clarke’s favorites as well, and it occurs to Raven as she stands frozen to her spot with her hand holding the door open, that Clarke might be another reason Raven has always felt the pull to this spot.

Clarke is leaning against the railing a few feet from her, and she doesn’t turn until someone yells to Raven to stop letting the cold air inside. Raven lets the door slip from her fingers, can hear it shut with a soft click, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of Clarke. Clarke smiles, and tilts her head in a “come on over” gesture.

It’s easy to walk over next to her, to fall into the same stance that the two of them take when they find themselves out on this balcony together time and again. Raven has lost count of the amount of conversations they’ve had out here, where they get lost in the conversation until someone comes to yell at them to join back with the rest of the group. Clarke’s arm presses against hers, cushioned by the layers of both their jackets, but when Raven lets herself glance over, Clarke is gazing outward towards the direction of Navy Pier.

“I always love that we can actually see the fireworks from here,” Clarke says. “Don’t have to watch them on TV like most people.”

“Don’t have to pay to see them, like the people _at_ Navy Pier, either,” Raven adds.

Clarke turns her head to grin at her and Raven grins back without thought; it’s _too_ easy to fall back into this familiar closeness with her. A small gust of wind weaves its way around them and Raven shivers, pulling her jacket in around her and shifting her eyes down to the railing in front of them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks Clarke, deciding to just rip the band aid off. She can see Clarke’s knuckles turn more white as she tightens her grip on the railing. “About Lexa?”

“I didn't…” Clarke starts, then hesitates before saying, “I know you were never really fond of her—”

“She wasn’t my favorite,” Raven admits. Clarke snorts at the obvious understatement, probably remembering the frosty way Raven and Lexa would treat each other during the few group gatherings they were both present at. Raven puts her hand over Clarke’s on the railing, and tells her, “But _you_ are. Of course I would want to hear about your life.”

Clarke’s eyes stay on their hands for a few minutes while she thinks. She turns her hand palm up and interlaces their fingers, shifting her gaze to Raven with a look that Raven’s not completely sure how to decipher.

“Either way, you were going through your own stuff. I didn't want to drag you into it,” Clarke continues. She pulls her hand away, wrapping her coat jacket tighter around herself. “Where is Wick, by the way? I haven’t seen him all night.”

“Wick is … not here,” Raven says. Clarke raises her eyebrows. “I ended things with him on Saturday. For good.”

It’s a testament to the kind of friends that Raven has that when she tells any of them that she ended an on-again-off-again relationship for good, every single one of them believe her without question.

Clarke’s face is empathetic as she reaches out to touch Raven on the arm.

“It’s okay,” Raven continues. “I think I was more upset about _ending_ the relationship than I was about the relationship ending.”

Clarke nods and steps closer. “I get it. I do.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, watching party go-ers stumble down the sidewalk across the street from them.

“Are _you_ okay? About what happened with Lexa?” Raven asks her. Because, really, the details of the break up aren’t really as important as finding out if Clarke is okay.

“Yeah?” Clarke answers, as though she’s unsure. “I mean, it was tough at first, when she broke it off so abruptly, but now that I’ve had a bit of distance, I’m starting to see all the reasons why I’m better off.” Clarke shrugs, looking down at her feet and shifting back onto her heels, before looking back out at the skyline. 

“You’re definitely better off,” Raven tells her firmly. She’s about to say more, but she gets distracted by the sound of music being cut off mid-song and the group of people inside counting down from thirty.

“Crap,” she says, looking through the glass door to see if she can locate Bellamy. How did that half hour go by so quickly?

“Looking for your midnight kiss?” Clarke asks, amused.

“Yeah, I told Blake he was going to be my back-up for tonight when he convinced me to still come, but finding him in less than thirty seconds in there is probably not going to happen.”

Clarke laughs, and Raven turns to her. “I was planning on him being my midnight kiss as well. Guess we both just have to find a different person to kiss.”

And as the group of people from inside start to get louder as the numbers get to single digits, Clarke looks at her through her eyelashes and shrugs with one shoulder in one of the most coquettish move Raven has ever seen her do. There’s a voice in the back of Raven’s head telling her that this might not be a great idea, but she decides to ignore it and, instead, slowly nods and leans in towards Clarke.

She vaguely registers the shouting of “Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” inside, but that all falls away as she _finally_ presses her lips against Clarke’s. 

And, oh— this is definitely a mistake, because it's going to be so much harder going back to just being friends and trying not to stare at the beauty mark right above Clarke’s lip every time they’re in the same room. Now that Raven knows how soft Clarke’s lips are under her own, or that she tastes like the peppermint of her favorite lip balm, Raven’s not sure if she'll be able to _not_ think of this moment on replay every time they're in close proximity.

She figures if this is her one time to kiss Clarke, she might as well make it count, and she steps closer to Clarke, pressing her lips firmer against Clarke’s and letting her tongue dart out so she can get a better taste. Raven figures she can always blame it on the drinking later if Clarke asks. 

Clarke inhales sharply, and honestly it’s what Raven was expecting so she's already starting to pull away when Clarke cups the back of her neck and pulls her in even closer, mouth opening to deepen the kiss.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small part of Raven is rolling her eyes at the fact that there are literal fireworks exploding above the two of them during their kiss, but it's tough to pay attention to that when she can focus instead on tangling her hands into Clarke's curls and tilting her head for an even better angle to kiss her. 

When they finally break away from one another, their breath forming little clouds in the chilly night air, Clarke's hair is in a disarray and her cheeks bright red, but she's got such a hopeful smile that Raven can't help but smile fondly back at her. 

“I…” Clarke starts, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, “I thought you weren't into girls?”

Her statement is more of a question, and Raven uses her index finger to smooth the crease on Clarke's forehead, before lightly skimming her thumb over her lower lip.

“I'm not,” Raven tells her. Clarke opens her mouth like she's about to reply, and Raven darts in close and lands a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “I'm into _you_.”

That gives Clarke pause, like she never would have even considered it, the corners of her mouth twitching up in the start of a smile. “Oh.”

“I didn’t think you were interested in _me_ at all, since you never made any moves,” Raven tells her, feeling a little more confident that that isn’t the case now. “Thank goodness for antiquated new year’s traditions.”

Clarke laughs, letting her hands slide up the sleeves of Raven’s coat and wrap around her neck, her fingers lightly stroking the skin they can find under her collar. 

“Happy new year,” Clarke grins.

Raven touches her forehead to Clarke’s, leaning in closer and dropping her gaze down to Clarke’s lips once again. “Happy new year,” she whispers with a smile.

_Begin as you mean to go on_ , Raven thinks to herself as she slides her hands over Clarke’s hips to pull her closer and draw her back into another kiss.


End file.
